September bled into October and the weather cools to my favorite time of year. Unfortunately, with the potential impending doom at every corner, I can't truly enjoy it.
It isn't until the second week of October when the town seems to catch on that there's a pattern of bank robberies in the neighboring area: blood always at the scene.
"That doesn't seem to make much sense."
I peek up from looking over Bonnie's shoulder, her hand furiously writing notes about her own research into this particular spell into a notebook, one that will eventually compile into a grimoire of her own.
"What do you mean, Sheila?"
The woman's eyes are narrowed, watching the television reporter explain the unknown phenomenon. "Why would vampires leave blood at the scene?"
"Yeah, wouldn't that be like spilling your food?" Bonnie asks, smirking.
Hmm. They are asking good questions. "Suppose it would. Don't you think it's odd that the cameras never find anything either?" I sip my tea.
The fact that the cameras show no sign of tampering seems to mystify the news anchors far more than the inexplicable blood appearing out of nowhere on the footage.
"They could just compel bank security to remove the footage, but leaving blood behind just seems pointless. And there are no missing people or corpses either," Sheila says with a thoughtful tilt of her head, rubbing her chin.
Bonnie furrows her brow. "Can they really just… waltz into a bank and get whatever they want?"
"Vampires don't have to play by the rules. Not even the moral ones," I explain. "I have to admit that the possibilities if I had that ability are tempting. Imagine all the good that you could do. A criminal prosecutor forcing a criminal to tell the truth. A social worker forcing abusive parents to no longer be abusive. Removing the trauma of soldiers when they get back home. And that's not even getting to the other abilities: curing genetic diseases, healing wounds as an EMT."
"All for the price of drinking human blood." Sheila is frowning at me.
I throw my arms up in surrender. "Hey, I never said it didn't have drawbacks. But that's what blood banks are for. You know how many blood bags have to get thrown out? Something like over a million pints every year." I turn to Bonnie. "I much prefer the stylings of magic anyway."
While the grab-bag of vampire abilities might seem more immediately tempting, witches can pretty much do anything, even defying the rules that this world seems to have in place, whenever the plot demands it.
The best part is that I'm not even limited to one or the other. Just have to take that leap into vampirism.
"That doesn't seem quite as bad as I thought," she contemplated aloud. "But how often do vampires only do good with it?"
"For every one Stefan Salvatore, you have fifteen Damon Salvatores," I muse. "Give or take."
Sheila laughs. "Too true. Now, go through what you're thinking about this spell now."
Bonnie nods, showing her best approximation of an ancient diagram, her tight handwriting pointing to the various ingredients arranged in the circle, with the Latin equivalents in a key to the side. She's… learned a lot, but half of the basics are just memorization.
"I think I can definitely brew this on my own now."
The table before her has everything that she needs to perform it, and when I nod for her to go through with it, she starts to arrange them according to the diagram and follow the instructions.
She places the rose in the center of the circle and then holds out my hand. Reluctantly, I hold it out and she pricks my finger, wincing slightly as she drops the blood over the rose petals. She then begins to chant as I back away slowly, waiting to see what will happen.
The candles flare with light suddenly, the air in the room growing perceptibly warmer for a moment, and then the rose starts to grow, divide, and replicate.
In my direction.
Thorny vines curve toward me, rose heads budding off every few inches, and then continuing toward me in a mass of tentacle-like plant growth, winding around the table legs and then snaking across the ground.
"All right," I say with a grin, backing away slowly even as my grin fades. "You can stop the spell now."
She chants the words to stop the spell, but it doesn't seem to work at first glance, the growth continuing on its own accord, pursuing me like some of the worst porn I've ever had the misfortune of viewing that one time.
Well… a few times.
"I can't-"
Sheila frowns at her granddaughter, raises her arm, and the spell growth ceases with a single word, then retreats across her living room and back into the bowl.
"Hey, at least the activation worked," I say, to appease her obvious disappointment. "Tied to the right cosmic event and other conditions, and that growth would have probably continued to follow me, maybe even for miles."
Or longer. I remember Dahlia's vine growth, keyed in on finding Hope and drawing some of her blood. That's what this spell is supposed to do, a kind of pursuit spell that has some combat potential, in the right circumstance. Only problem with this version is that it requires the target's blood, so it's not going to be a threat to someone like Lucien, for example, unless I could get some of his blood.
Either way, this is still a potentially powerful spell that is more than just making things move with your mind or burn things.
"Well, it still didn't work."
"You just need more practice on the deactivation side of things." She often had this problem at this stage, with other more complicated spells. She could get them to start but struggled to stop them.
"I think there's something more about this subject in your great-great-grandmother Roberta's grim-"
"Grams, I'm tired of reading books."
I intercept before her complaints can continue and escalate. "I hated reading books of all kinds, when it felt like they were assigned to me, for school." Both lifetimes of it. "But you can't get the really good stuff unless you read. Magic isn't something you just know how to do- you gotta learn it."
"Yeah, yeah," she said after a moment. "I'm going to head out, though. Caroline wants to go shopping, and I've been blowing her off-"
"So you're going to blow us off instead? The session isn't even half over yet." I frown and she rolls her eyes.
"Just go, Bonnie, you probably do need a break."
Did not expect Sheila to disagree with me. Do the two of them not understand the monumental danger that Lucien Castle brings them? Good lord.
Stefan and Damon can't stop Lucien on their own. Magic is the equalizer, something that can negate the power-level bullshit that older vampires seem to have over newer ones. I need Bonnie on my side, the brothers need Bonnie on their side. As soon as possible.
I would argue, but I've learned quickly that arguing with Sheila Bennet gets you nowhere.
Bonnie just thanks us both and then leaves, moderately in a good mood. I gather my things to make my leave, but Sheila grabs my arm.
"You keep looking at that photograph on the mantle. Why?"
I know which picture she's talking about, but I didn't even notice that I was spending so much time looking at it. Sheila and Abby at Bonnie's birthday party years ago.
"That's Bonnie's mom, right?"
The woman nods. "Yes. Is that why? Did you-" She pauses, sighing. Her hopeful face plummets as realization of something crosses her eyes, letting go of my arm. "Never mind."
"I think I know where she is." I sit back down as she guffaws, clearly not ready for me to throw the Abby Bennet card this early. "But you don't, do you?"
"Haven't spoken to her in years," she admits. "I… tried to find her once, but she blocked me. I realized that I didn't particularly care to find her after that, and-"
"And you turned to alcohol."
She breathes deeply, not looking me in the eye. "Among other reasons, yes. My own daughter turned her back on her family. How could I not be disappointed?"
Oh man, if only Sheila knew.
"Do you want me to help you patch things up with her? If not for you, then for Bonnie?"
The hope in her eyes nearly makes me tear up. Not for the first time, and hopefully not for the last, I'm reminded of just how old Sheila really is.